Stray
by Namesake
Summary: All Kiba wanted was to find peace & Paradise. All Sirius wanted was acceptance and to keep Harry safe. A journey usually has some danger and trying to keep a stubborn teenager in one place is asking for trouble. With magic involved everyone's in trouble.


A/N: Here's a story I've been writing on and off since last summer. I don't remember exactly how the idea struck me, but I didn't want to post it until it was done. However, since it's being posted, and obviously not done, the reason being I've been having a rather nice conversation with WhiteWolfofDestiny that I felt like posting something. This is about halfway done, and the second bit will be posted when it's done. I love Wolf's Rain, one of my top favourite anime (next to Darker than Black, Ghost in the Shell and the Gundam Series), and Harry Potter-like Naruto and various other shows-is just one of those genres that you can just cross with anything if you work it right, and I do enjoy a challenge!

*"C'est la lune qui conduit la danse" translates to "…It's the Moon that leads the dance…" Lyrics from "Valse de la Lune"

EDIT: fixed some things, but as I don't have a beta, there are still possible spelling errors.

* * *

Walking.

Walking wasn't enough anymore.

Running.

Running wasn't getting him to where he needed to be fast enough.

Food.

It was unnecessary.

All that mattered to him at the moment was the scent; the siren call that the wind and breezes taunted him with day and night. Even when he passed out from exhaustion, his dreams were plagued by the call that never gave him enough of what his mind needed. He had left his village; those that had raised him had understood. They knew that he was compelled to be elsewhere; it wasn't something he could fight despite how much he wanted to remain. With hope and heavy hearts, the village had turned him loose and he had run without looking back; only stopping when it was imperative to his health.

Like now.

The door was strange and smelled funny. It had a similar tang of what he was searching for, but it was an echo…what he was searching for had walked passed this door as he did. Yet the door made no sense. First off, what would people do with a door in the middle of a forest clearing? Most people tended to stick together these days in run down cities and villages; only knowing what was going on in the outside world through the traders that came on their visits wandering well worn paths year after year. He could walk around this door, see both sides, so what was the door for? If he could see where he was going, why was it so important he travel through it? He had tried to go back to his group, but it was as if an invisible barrier kept him in the clearing, uncomfortably exposed in his opinion.

The wind shifted and hackles raised; growl echoing through the clearing.

The doors creaked open ominously and a curtain flapped in a breeze. Curious, he paced around the door again. It was closed on the other side, and that perplexed him more since that did not validate the sway of the curtain; it would have had to come from this direction to make it sway and dance the way it did.

Whispers and taunts made his ears twitch, and he wandered back around to the other side. Something was coming? His posture was the epitome of aggression and hostility. He wasn't ready for the man—_dog_, his nose said, _Dog of ill-Portents_—the man turned pain filled, expressive grey eyes upon him before a large dog was in his place. Surprised, he wasn't prepared for the dog's attack. He couldn't counter the first move, but he did indeed, counter the second. Gold eyes glared into brown eyes as the two circled. The animal across from him had a gaunt look about him of not being fed for a while, but there were signs that he was once again building back his body.

The black one had a nice coat at least.

"Who are you?" he asked. But the words had barely left his mouth before the other beast attacked him. As he fell back, he suspected he'd hit the door, but the whispers were suddenly louder and all around him. His last thoughts were for his little flower before the roaring became too much and he closed his eyes.

Before he lost consciousness, he thought he heard an unfamiliar voice sing for him.

…When he opened his eyes again, he was in a strange forest. The sounds were different and the scents were different; usually each forest had that underlying scent of _forest_—_wilderness—_but this one held a tang of something, reminding him uncomfortably of the Nobles' places that they had sequestered for themselves. And yet, no matter how similar the scents were, they were different as well; like an orange compared with a grapefruit.

Reminiscent was the word he believed he was looking for.

Getting up was harder than he thought it was going to be.

Eventually gaining his feet, he carefully picked his way through the unfamiliar forest. He heard birds and other forest life, but it was strangely still. Tripping over a twisted tree root, he couldn't find the strength to get up again.

_I'll just sleep here…for a minute…_

…His ears pricked. Instead of the damming whispers that had brought him to wherever he was, laughter danced on the breeze. Laughter and a song; the song was important. Struggling once again for his feet, finally making it there, he took off to his right. Bushes snagged and grabbed for him; roots rose up from the forest floor trying to trip him. Leaping over a particularly tenacious root, he snarled.

"_Why do you try to cage me within yourselves?"_

An ominous wind just blew through the trees, making the leaves hiss angrily. One of the others would know what the trees were hissing, but he had never had the patience to converse with the trees. He broke through the tree line and the protective fauna there, and stopped.

A castle.

A huge castle greeted him.

A huge castle by a lake…

A very _impressive_ lake.

He wasn't quite sure what to think, yet always one for action, the breeze picked up off the lake, carrying the song of the Moon with it. Thirsty, he couldn't remember the last time he had had the quality of water the lake promised, he limped across the wide field, past a hut, and down a knoll to the lake. Lapping at the water, the hair on the back of his neck began to rise as his instincts began to become wary of the lake. Leaping back and snarling, he was in the air as the water he had previously been drinking frothed white and a tentacle writhed on the bank, churning the bank to swampy mud, before withdrawing once again to the dark water. Watching the water calmly, he decided not to chance another drink.

He found a soft patch of sweet smelling grass and collapsed into it; basking in the moonlight. It was when a familiar scent steeped in sadness reached his nose that he forced himself to move. Standing up, he made his way towards the castle and the large doors that beckoned him forth. It was when he was on the threshold to the castle, at the top of the stairs, that he heard a whisper.

"_What is it that you seek beyond my doors?"_

He paused at the distinctly feminine voice. The tone he supposed was motherly, not that he remembered his mother well; his instincts labeled the voice, the impression of a mother protecting her brood. Knowing the sadness wasn't one of the young ones she protected, he spoke the truth. "_I seek the scent of sadness."_

"_What are you your intentions for the sadness?"_

"_My intentions?"_

"_Do you seek to harm?"_ She was still concerned despite his truth.

Very well; he'd assuage her. As it was, he truly meant no harm to those within unless they sought to harm him. "_Nothing has presented a danger to me; therefore I will not present a danger."_

"_Well met."_

Curious, he watched as the doors opened. Padding softly down the expansive corridors, the scent of food drew him to a gaily lit, immense hall. The orange light from within spilled into the dark corridor he was in. He sniffed a few times, mouth watering unconsciously. Without his flower, and with only full moonlight to assuage hunger, he yearned for the delicious food he could smell. Yet, the delicious scents of meats and pies were made unsavoury by the overpowering scent of grief and sadness. Softly walking into the hall, he looked around. Surely someone was here for the grief to be so thickly laid on everything.

A soft gasp had his head turning about and looking up. On a raised part of the floor was a long table that an older man trying to console the source of the grief that permeated everything. Taking a deep breath, he instantly regretted it when the sharp tang of sadness made him sneeze, bringing the two people's attention on him. But what the breath had given him was a most curious scent.

"Are you expecting a visitor, dear boy?" the older man asked his compatriot.

"I've never seen the boy before now," the other, younger man, replied.

He was confused. Surely the one was human, but the other was distinctly…not. Confused, and curious, and despite his great leadership skills, he was a young one; his skills were more an instinct than anything. He had been born to lead.

…So had the two at the table.

"Why do you run with them?" he finally spoke, his youthful voice strong even in his exhaustion.

"Excuse me?"

"Whatever do you mean, lad?"

He was slightly frustrated now. "Not you, Old One," he inclined his head in respect and shifted his gaze to the one with brown hair. "You; why do you run with them?"

"What?"

"She calls to you, too, doesn't she?" he persisted.

The not-man swallowed. "I don't understand."

He smiled. "I think you do. Don't you hear the symphony that the sky sings at night?"

The-not-man paled. "How do you know?" he whispered.

"I think you're a bit confused, my boy," the human companionably replied.

His hackles raised as he returned his attention to the Old One. He growled. "I know you're a Leader as well, but you aren't involved in this."

"Remus is a good friend of mine," his strong, old voice replied, blue eyes glinting in the low light. "I'd like to know what your business is in Hogwarts."

_Hogwarts? So that's the name of the place_. He inclined his head. "She was very gracious to let me within her walls. I scented sadness." His gaze returned to Remus. "And then I scented wolf."

"And, dear boy, how do you know he's a wolf?" the Old One continued. "He looks perfectly human to me."

He was having enough of the Old One's game. Surely he didn't expect him to believe words when scent disproved everything he was saying. Instead of replying to the goads of the Old One, he turned his attention back to the one called Remus. "Come; run with me."

Remus just stared at him, wide-eyed and pale.

"Come; run with me!"

Remus slowly shook his head. "I…I c-can't."

He snarled. "You act more a rabbit than a wolf; some pride you have."

"Now see here!" The Old One snapped, pounding his fist to the table top; plates and goblets rattled from the force of his action. "Remus has lost a dear friend of his, and is still grieving over his loss."

A draft from the corridor played with shoulder length brown hair as his wild blue eyes bored into those of the Old One. He wouldn't be shown up by one whose teeth were probably getting soft. A quiet gasp from Remus had both their attentions on the man-not-man.

"Why do you smell like him?"

He tilted his head in confusion. "Who?"

"Sirius," Remus breathed. "Why do you smell like Sirius?"

He was still confused. He'd never met a Sirius, then again, he had never gotten the name of that dog. Was this Sirius of Remus' that Dog of ill-Portents? He came out of his thoughts to find Remus watching him. He gazed back, fearless; he had nothing to hide. What did he care if this not-man judged him? What he sought would always accept him for who and what he was.

"Just who are you?" Remus finally asked, voice soft and rough with grief.

"I am Kiba," the white wolf finally spoke. "And you're a wolf."

"How?" Remus whispered brokenly.

Kiba smiled. He opened his mouth to speak when an aged, wicked voice sing-songed, _"Found you~!"_

Kiba, who had been so engrossed in their conversation, startled, leapt back and whirled around, baring his fangs. "_Just who are you?_" he snarled to the cat.

She continued meowing and licking her paws. _"I'm Mrs. Norris,_" the cat haughtily replied. _"And you're in trouble for being out after curfew."_

"_I don't even belong here!"_ Kiba snarled back at the infuriating cat. He hated cats.

Red eyes finally opened to see not the student she had sensed, but an immense white wolf that wasn't very happy. Hissing Mrs. Norris arched her back and fled the room. Watching the cat flee, he turned back to the table, claws clicking on the stone floor, where the Old One was pointing a stick at him while Remus was still sitting. "Are you a werewolf?" the Old One asked.

Kiba's baleful gold gaze just looked at the man. He cocked his head slightly, not understanding the term. "_I am a wolf._" He turned his attention to Remus. "_Run with me."_

"Perhaps, Headmaster, I should see Kiba to the Entrance Hall," Remus slowly said. "He hasn't hurt us yet, so he can't mean us harm; Hogwarts wouldn't have let him in unless he was harmless."

"That sounds like a good idea, my boy!" the Old One, Headmaster, exclaimed. "Wouldn't want a student out after hours to run into him."

Remus stood up and Kiba watched him round the table and head down the dais. "Come on, Kiba; follow me."

Kiba waited for Remus to reach him before padding silently behind him. When they reached the entrance to the hall, Filch, who had come to find Mrs. Norris, saw Remus and what appeared to be a student in casual dress, leave the Great Hall. Before he could say anything, Remus held up his hand for peace. "This is a friend of mine who's staying in Hogsmeade. He came to call on me but we've both realized it's much too late for talking. I'm escorting him back to the castle gates."

"You see that he be doing that, Professor," Filch grunted as he, with Mrs. Norris in arms, left to wherever they go. Remus idly wondered if the man ever slept. They made it to the Entry Hall with little incident thereafter.

"Run with me."

The request, more of a command really, startled Remus. He turned and instead of the large white wolf he and Dumbledore had witnessed in the Great Hall, a youth, probably Harry's age, gazed back at him with knowing blue eyes. Not in the way that Dumbledore's eyes held knowledge; his gaze was heavy and wise. Kiba's gaze was the knowledgeable gaze of a wild animal that has survived countless hardships. His hair, surprisingly, wasn't white on his human form, but medium brown; a shade his had been close to in his school days. His jacket and white t-shirt were clean, if a bit worn, and Kiba's jeans were ripped and in need of a wash.

"I can't," Remus replied. He bit his lip when Kiba's gaze turned thoughtful. "At least…not tonight." He damned himself for the concession, but knew that now it was spoken he couldn't take it back.

"When?" Kiba asked. "Tomorrow?"

"The best time to run would be the night of the Full Moon," Remus slowly replied, unsure if his wolf would tolerate Kiba. "Just…don't be too hard on Moony."

"Moony?" Kiba queried. "Who's Moony?"

Remus sighed. "When I was in school, my group of friends all gained an animagus form so that they could run with me on nights of the Full Moon. We all had nicknames pertaining to our animal forms. Because I am a werewolf, and turn into a wolf on the night of the Full Moon, I was dubbed Moony."

"Who were the rest of your pack?" Kiba was curious.

Remus was silent for a moment before slowly shaking his head. "Not tonight; it's too soon." He looked up, and Kiba followed his gaze, to look at the moon three-quarters full and waxing. "I'll see you when the moon is full near the Whomping Willow."

Kiba snorted. It seemed that everything had a name here, most being much too long and full of self import.

"It's the very temperamental tree that kills just about anything that gets within its reach," Remus extrapolated.

Kiba nodded. "I will see you then."

Remus watched as a white wolf loped across the field and disappeared into the depths of the Forbidden Forest. Perhaps he should let Hagrid know about Kiba. He wouldn't want the half-giant, Fang or, heaven forbid, a hapless student to do something stupid that would bring Kiba's wrath down upon them. For Remus knew, unlike Dumbledore, that the only reason Kiba hadn't attacked them was that they hadn't posed a threat. Remus absently wondered how Kiba would have retaliated had they attacked him.

* * *

The next morning as the students gathered in the Great Hall for breakfast, before the House Elves sent the food up, Dumbledore stood and tapped his crystal goblet; calling the students to attention. Curious, since Dumbledore usually called their attention after breakfast, the students fell silent as they waited for the Headmaster to tell them what he will. The Slytherins were making snide jokes, absently wondering in stage whispers if the old Headmaster would give them words of nonsense as wisdom.

"It has come to my attention," Dumbledore began, "that there is a new creature roaming the Forbidden Forest. I have had the pleasure to chat with him and he was most clear that he means no harm; he's just lost. But I implore you to be harmless if you cross paths with him; he's agreed to be harmless if he is met harmless as he will meet aggression with aggression and force with force.

"Am I understood?"

The murmured, "Yes, Headmaster," was a dull thunder spoken by hundreds of students in the hall.

"Very good," Dumbledore replied. "Now, as I understand it, the House Elves have made a wonderful breakfast! Let's enjoy!"

As food appeared on the tables, many in the Great Hall shoved Dumbledore's words to the back of their head as they tucked into their food; some, mulled over them before dismissing them for another time; a handful of students, however, discussed the facts over breakfast. A certain few in Slytherin and a trio in Gryffindor were among the few.

"What you s'pose Dumbledore meant by that?" Ron asked as he veritably shoved half a pancake into his mouth. He pointedly ignored Hermione's disapproving glare in regards to his table manners.

"I'm not quite sure," Harry replied as he covered his sausages in maple syrup.

"You're not planning to go looking for whatever it is, are you?" Hermione inquired as she took a dainty bite of toast. "It would probably break the rules."

"Wheh're oo 'n ta fah-oh oos 'en 'e're 'n'olved?" Ron questioned her around his mouthful of food.

Hermione looked positively disgusted.

Harry didn't know what to think. "I don't know if I'm proud you got that out around that much food—" he flinched under Hermione's heated glare "—or wanting to teach you manners, mate."

Ron gave him a smile a chipmunk would be proud of; cheeks full of his breakfast. Harry was thankful he wasn't privy to a showing of it. It was difficult enough to watch him eat it and talk around it.

"Knowing us," Hermione sniffed, "we'll probably run into it when it's in a bad mood."

"Him," Harry corrected. "The Headmaster said he had talked to a 'him'."

Ron paused, shoving the other half of another pancake in his mouth, mulling over everything connected with that while Hermione absently chewed on her eggs. There was classes and quidditch to think about; so why was this mysterious 'him' taking precedence in his mind? Sighing morosely, his heart lurched when he realized that the one person he truly wanted to discuss this with wasn't in existence anymore. Snarling, he promised himself then and there that he'd become an animagus like his father and godfather and create mayhem that the Weasely Twins would be proud of.

First off, however, he needed to get to class.

Taking notes in class, Harry paid as much attention as his adolescent brain could, mind wandering about like usual and brought back to class by a poke from Hermione. History of Magic, however, she had given up on last year or the year before…he couldn't quite remember. That wasn't a surprise, however, since few managed to stay awake during Binns' class.

* * *

Remus absently taught DADA under polyjuice potion as a friend of his and Dumbledore's. The man had wanted the DADA job, but he had been asked by a close friend of his to help her with her research. It hadn't helped Dumbledore's cause that the man was smitten with his lady friend. Instead, Dumbledore asked if he could use his image for a friend who had been removed from the position due to a "condition"; their mutual friend, Dalbert Fiddlewood, enthusiastically agreed, and chopped off his long hair and sent it to Dumbledore. His explanation when people asked: "I was in the muggle world when I heard about this charity for children with this disease called cancer that made wigs out of hair. Naturally, since I love children, I immediately went to the nearest hair salon I could find and had them trim off a few inches for the poor dears."

And it was brilliant since most people didn't think to track down a wig for polyjuice potion…as it was, it had never been a wig in the first place. And as the record went, the first week or so was going brilliantly.

Remus sighed as he became himself again instead of Dalbert, who assured them that he had dyed his hair and gotten a tan; he didn't look like himself, or so he said. It was the night before the full moon and Moony was restless below his consciousness. _'Rival!'_ he growled. _'Encroaching on our territory!'_

Remus rubbed his temples. Perhaps…perhaps he'd take a walk; maybe the almost full moonlight would soothe Moony until tomorrow night. Donning a robe and cloak, Remus headed outside through the many secret passages he had memorized as a Marauder; his favourite one had always been the one to the Womping Willow, as it seemed the tree liked him for some strange reason. Leaving the door to the outside, Remus paused.

_Apparently I'm not the only one she likes anymore_, Remus thought. For below the branches that swayed innocently in a breeze before pummeling a bat out of the air, laying next to its great galled bole, was a large white wolf.

"_You look surprised to see me,_" Kiba said as he stood and shook himself.

"The Full Moon isn't until the morrow," Remus replied.

"_Ah, but even if She doesn't show you Her face in its entirety, Her grace is still the same and Her song as strong_," Kiba said as if it were the stated truth. It was almost an admonishment.

"Don't you know what I am?" Remus inquired, rubbing at the side of his head.. Damn this headache!

"_You are a wolf_," Kiba replied. _"You're a wolf, just as I am a human."_

In that instant, Remus wasn't talking to a white wolf with burnished gold eyes anymore, but a teenager with eyes the colour of the summer sky that had a wild air about him. "Why do you fight yourself?"

"I never wanted to be a werewolf!" Remus growled, gold eyes flashing dangerously. "I just wanted to be the quiet boy who liked charms and transfiguration; I wanted to be so many things that I can't now! I'm not even considered a proper member of wizarding society anymore! I'm a dangerous magical being; a dark creature!"

"Why?"

"I don't know what it's like where you're from, but here," Remus explained, "here those of us that can change into wolves usually lose our minds to the wolf's instincts; we want to hunt, kill and tear and rend flesh. We feel the urge to bite everything and anything."

"Do you feel those urges?" Kiba asked. He was curious.

"No!" Remus almost shouted. "I drink a bitter potion every month to keep my mind; the transformation is wearing enough."

Kiba was quiet for a minute. "Did you ever think that if you let your wolf out more often that it'd be more manageable?"

Remus looked up, incredulous. "Only the light of the full moon is able to bring about a full transformation."

"How sure are you?" Kiba continued. Remus had the feeling that he was being hunted. He had to remember that he wasn't speaking to a human or a werewolf; but a wolf that could make someone see that he was a human.

"It's written in books and has been published over hundreds of years," Remus informed the white wolf.

"Do you know if they studied werewolves?" Kiba inquired with a disgusted sneer. "That's the correct term, right? Watching a group of things to see how they act?"

Remus nodded. "I'm not sure."

Kiba sniffed; taking in Remus' scent noting the sharp tang that it had, different from the tang of sadness he had first scented it saturated in. "Are you hurt?"

"What? No," Remus quickly replied as he rubbed his temple. "I just have a headache is all; it's because the full moon is tomorrow and the wolf is restless."

"Then let him out."

"Tell me then, because I don't know how!" Remus snarled. He was at the end of his patience with the enigmatic white wolf.

Kiba was quiet for a moment after Remus' outburst, which the man was ashamed of. He was usually quite reserved; the rising wolf made him more violent and sporadic in speech and action and he damned himself for it. Remus watched as Kiba went from the boy—young man really—in front of him to a white wolf then back again.

"_C'est la lune qui conduit la danse*_: listen to the song the moon sings," Kiba replied. "Listen to the wind; the song of freedom. Wrap that around you and relax?"

Remus gave the boy a skeptic look before closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. Kiba was trying his best to help him after all. It wasn't like the boy went from wolf to human and back; if anything he put some odd glamour spell on himself to appear human. He opened his mind, let the scent of fresh grass and the lake fill his senses; his ears taking in the sound of night bugs and the creaking of trees; of the song the moonlight sang to him, reverberating in his bones. He sighed. It was glorious music. Now, Kiba suggested he wrap this glorious night symphony about himself? He hadn't sounded too sure about it, but then again, Kiba always went the other way. Not from human to wolf; he _was_ a wolf.

It was soft at first, and so subtle he hadn't noticed it at all, but suddenly fire raced down his spine and he cried out, except the human cry he was expecting was instead the snarl he was used to hearing on other nights, painful nights. Snapping his eyes open, he saw, instead of the boy, the white wolf. _Rival_, his instincts screamed._ Usurper of Power. Rogue._

Snarling, Remus launched himself at Kiba, fangs aimed for the other's throat.

"_Control your instincts!" _Kiba snarled at him as he dodged the attack. Remus' mind was quickly getting taken over by that of the wolf without the wolf's bane potion to help him keep his mind.

* * *

The black dog brought his nose down from his wild cry, determined not to wallow in sadness. He was already frantic from the conditions he had been brought here under, and suddenly loosing someone as he had been lost just compounded his already frazzled mindset. Emotions high, mind uneasy, he raised his nose to the sky again; howling sadness and urgency.

_Help! Help me! Help him! I'm lost!_

…_He's lost._

Bringing his nose back to the ground, his floppy ears twitched. Did he hear something? Cocking his head, his listened harder…there! It was distant, but definitely a howl. Wuffling around the ground, he tried to pick up a scent, but it must have recently rained wherever he was, for all he could smell was himself and the White Wolf. Whining piteously, he laid down to wait for whoever was coming._ Remus would so bite me right now before he'd curse me so hard my grandparents would feel it._

"Kiba!"

"Shut up, brat!"

"But…"

"This one sees someone."

He turned his head to see what looked like three wolves and…a girl? She smelled…really, really nice.

"What is that?" the skinny tawny coloured one inquired with a quirk of his head. The black dog thought he couldn't be long out of puppyhood.

"It looks like a dog," the steel grey one observed.

"Smells like a purbred," the…chunky…one inquired. He panted laughter. "You don't see them much these days.

"At least, not if he's the breed I think he is if I'm judging by coat colour and size."

"This one is confused," the pale, red eyed girl continued. "This one sees you, Black Dog, but where is Kiba?"

"Kiba?" he echoed. "Who's Kiba?"

"Kiba's big and white!" the young, skinny wolf replied. "I'm Toboe! The angry one with the scar is Tsume and the other wolf is Hige!" the tawny wolf, Toboe, happily introduced.

The girl laughed—music flowing from her mouth really—at his enthusiasm.

Tsume bumped into him, throwing the prancing wolf off balance and effectively knocking him over.

"Hey!"

"You forgot about Cheza," Hige diplomatically inserted before Tsume could, assuredly, dress down the kid.

"Sorry!" Toboe hastily replied. "This is Cheza!"

"This one is glad to meet you!" She replied, going to her knees and opening her arms. Feeling an urge to greet her, the black dog's tail began wagging furiously; so much so that half his body was wagging to and fro with his energetically wagging tail. He bounded over and began licking the girl's face, whining happily.

"You don't suppose he's just an ordinary dog?" the one called Hige inquired. "Hasn't really acted in a way to show much intelligence."

"He is a purebred," Tsume replied. "You only get those through inbreeding."

He stopped his enthusiastic greeting to turn to the tubby wolf. "My name is Sirius Black."

Toboe was the first to speak up. "That sounds like a human name."

Sirius cocked his large black head. "That would be because I am a human."

Toboe looked horribly confused, so, to enlighten the youth, Sirius obliged the boy and transformed. Blinking his eyes to clear his vision from 'dog' to 'human', he was met by a snarling grey wolf, Hige with his hackles up, and Toboe standing protectively in front of Cheza, hackles raised but still looking _very_ confused.

"_But…I don't get it_," Toboe whined.

"_You're a Noble, aren't you?"_ Tsume snarled, baring vicious fangs enough to rival Remus.

Hige sniffed. _"He doesn't smell like a Noble._"

"This one wants to know why you are here and Kiba isn't," Cheza evenly replied. "Where is Kiba?"

Sirius looked sadly at the group when they mentioned his sin. He sighed. "This is going to take a while; you might want to make yourselves comfortable."

Cheza sat cross-legged on the ground, Tsume to the right, Hige to her left, and Toboe behind all of them on Tsume's side.

_Kiba must get the front_, Sirius thought. "It started when I was in school with my friends…" Sirius began. He told them about his Hogwarts years; how his best friend was a werewolf and he, James, and Peter decided to become animagi to be with him on nights of the Full Moon so he wouldn't be alone; how Voldemort's reign began and ended the first time; how he came back and the fight in the Ministry.

"_So…you're really human?"_ Toboe inquired.

"_Werewolf?_" Hige inquired. "_How are they different from normal wolves?"_

"A werewolf is a magical creature that turns into a wolf at the Full Moon," Sirius explained. "It's hereditary by males and can be acquired at birth, if you're a boy child, or by exchanging fluids, primarily saliva, with a werewolf while in wolf form."

"This one still is wondering where Kiba is," Cheza spoke into the silence after Sirius' explanation.

"_How did you get here?"_ Toboe inquired with a tilt of his head.

"_I haven't seen forests the like of which you speak of," _Hige replied. "_It's mostly wasteland here; sand or snow."_

"_We did find that forest that wasn't dead,"_ Tsume replied.

"_True_," Hige conceded.

"_So how _did_ you get here?"_ Toboe repeated his question. All other conversation died.

"The last thing I remember is falling through the Veil at the Ministry." Sirius looked over his shoulder. "It looked a bit like this thing here, actually."

"_There are some Noble ruins near here_," Hige said. _"It's probably one of their strange artifacts."_

"I see."

"_Kiba?"_ Toboe echoed Cheza's earlier inquiries.

Sirius gave the group a sad look. "He fell through."

* * *

Kiba snarled as the other wolf launched himself at his being again. "_Remus!" _But all his efforts turned up was an enraged wolf. Despite the human's age, the wolf didn't seem that old; perhaps a bit older than him. Snarling his challenge at the wolf, Kiba took off running; white tail a flag in the air behind him blatantly showing the other that he wasn't running off scared. The snarl and pounding of feet behind him told Kiba Remus was in pursuit.

Kiba, over the days and nights he had waited for Remus to visit him, had padded the land within the walls. He had found the clearing that he had landed in when he first arrived here. He had padded over plateaus, hills, gullies, forests, marshes and the inlet for the Lake. He found a ravine and headed that way, cutting across the large, grassy field—almost a small plain—that he had watched the children cross to the hut at the edge near the forest that he avoided; Kiba really didn't like the mutterings of the rather large dog that lived there.

Throwing himself in the air, Kiba watched as Remus ended up being where he had been only heartbeats earlier. Snarling as he twisted in the air, the white wolf landed and took a different direction, Remus following.

Remus was quite the wolf; sleek and powerful, he was built more for a fight than continuously running as Kiba did. Not to say that Remus couldn't do it; every wolf, when needing to travel a distance, had a mile eating pace that humans couldn't keep up with. Pain lanced up his hind leg, causing him and his attacker to tumble nose over tail as their forward momentum was abruptly killed.

Snarling, Kiba pounced on Remus, wrapping his fangs about the other's throat. "_Why do you attack me?"_ He snarled.

"_Rogue!"_ Remus snarled back. "_Usurper!"_

Kiba's thoughts flew. The man's wolf thought he was here to take his territory? Kiba had no territory, even where he belonged. He followed Her call and She was his goddess; wherever She went, he would go. The idea that he would be content in one place when he had paced restlessly all over Hogwarts' grounds searching for something that didn't exist here was just too much for him. Kiba fell to his haunches and laughed. He had to leap out of the way twice to avoid a messy death from fangs, but eventually Kiba's laughter died down. Catching his breath, the wolf laid down and crossed his forepaws.

"_Why would I want a place that isn't mine?"_ Kiba questioned. "_I have a Need, to seek something; to find Paradise."_

That seemed to give the other wolf pause. Kiba's gold eyes watched the other wolf think. He took the time to examine him. His coat was a mix of browns and golds, with a bit of grey along his spine and the back of his ears; his toes were white as if he decided he didn't want socks. His face sported a few silver scars across his muzzle and his eyes shone with a strange intelligence that made him want to shudder. Kiba watched Remus think, before the other wolf shuddered and laid down across from him.

"_Kiba?"_ The familiar voice he had conversed with that night long ago when he had stumbled into the castle tentatively voiced. "_You're okay?"_

"_I'm fine_," Kiba replied. "_I've had worse under worse circumstances and will probably get worse under worse conditions."_

"_How…" _Remus trailed off, unsure how to voice his question.

"_Your…instincts…thought I was hedging on your territory."_

"_Oh_."

Kiba smiled. "_You should be fine now; just run in the moonlight more often."_ He stood up, nipped Remus' tail, before tearing off across the field. Remus, not one to be shown up, stood and tore off after the other wolf. He wouldn't let such a young pup show him up. Growling in play, Remus nipped Kiba's tail and took off in another direction, laughing all the while.

It was the first time in years that Remus was actually looking forward to a Full Moon. All day, his headaches were at a minimum. As soon as dinner had been eaten, he excused himself and fled the castle. He ran along the hidden corridors and secret passages until he was free of Hogwarts. Gold eyes were waiting as he bathed himself in moonlight and ran to meet Kiba.

* * *

It was Thursday and the Gryffindors had, surprisingly enough, DADA with the Hufflepuffs. It was a nice change after years with Slytherins and their underhanded dealings. Yet…after a while…

…it was incredibly boring.

The Gryffindors, being the boisterous lot that they were—and considering practically all of them were in the DA—started to use slightly higher level spells that were required of them in class. When a stag patronous bounded about the classroom, a slightly angry voice called out, "50 points from Mr. Potter and 10 points from each of you respectively from Gryffindor," which had all the students of Gryffindor freezing in their tracks. Professor Fiddlewood did _not_ look happy with them.

"I know you have been paired with Slytherin since your First year, but I don't think the majority of the class is up to par with your skills," Fiddlewood continued. "Mr. Potter, since you seem to be the ringleader here, I will see you after class.

"Now, for the rest of you, take it down to the level we are at in class or else you will be joining Mr. Potter here."

Class ran smoothly afterwards, with Hermione feeling slightly ashamed of her actions as well as Ron stewing that the teacher was unfair and out to get Harry. The Gryffindors returned to being slightly bored as they were paired off with Hufflepuffs, using only the attack spells they had been assigned but slighted the teacher by using whatever defense spell they wanted.

"You don't have to do this, mate," Ron whispered as Professor Fiddlewood let class out.

"Don't encourage Harry to shirk his punishment, Ron!" Hermione hissed at him. Ron rolled his eyes.

"It's okay, really," Harry assured them. "If I hadn't let my patronous out, we probably would have been able to get away with more for longer. I'll see you at lunch."

Seeing his friends off, Harry, with a sigh, gathered his own school things before heading to the Prof. Fiddlewood's desk. "Professor."

"Mr. Potter," Fiddlewood began. "I can't say that I'm ashamed of you since most people my age can't cast half the spells you and your classmates can. However, since half of your classmates didn't seem to be able to cast them, you were inadvertently putting them in danger."

"Sorry, sir," Harry apologized.

"I'm sure you're sorry, Mr. Potter, but I'm afraid I'll have to give you a detention."

Harry definitely was not happy about that.

"What time should I meet you, Professor?" Harry replied, trying to keep an angry note out of his voice.

"You will meet me at 8pm outside my office," Prof. Fiddlewood replied. "It's the portrait of the Forest. The password is 'Fang'."

Harry looked up sharply, but Mr. Fiddlewood was grading papers. What an odd password. "Is that all, Professor?"

"Yes. I'll see you this evening."

"This evening," Harry echoed.

* * *

Kiba looked up from his nap as the large tawny wolf known as Moony—also the human wizard Remus—trotted towards him. His companion's scent was sharp with sadness and he just seemed altogether _down_.

"_You usually don't visit me unless the Moon is singing her song to the night,"_ Kiba observed. "_What has caused your sad scent to come seeking me in the sunshine hours?"_

"_Thoughts,"_ Remus finally replied.

"_Thoughts?"_

"_The past, mostly,"_ Remus somewhat clarified. Kiba watched as he laid his large head on his forepaws and stared at nothing, Moony's intelligence focused inward rather than to the world of scent and touch.

"…_you miss your pack_," Kiba finally ventured, assured in his guess when he saw the other wolf tense and come out of his thoughts. It was good to think, but too much wallowing would only poison oneself and deteriorate one's health beyond repair. His memories told him that it had happened to pack members—mother's who lost their litter, a long mated pair losing a partner—the will to live just leeching from their bodies. Remus was fighting it, but it was visibly wearing on the man.

"…_I do_," Moony finally replied, head as low to the ground as he could get it and ears flat along the side of his head in sorrow. _"I miss them more now than I thought I did."_

"_Why?"_ The simple question that usually always brought more questions.

Remus gave him a long look with those sad, effervescent gold eyes of his. Finally deciding on something, the older wolf began speaking. He told Kiba of a childhood that was everything a child could want or hope for without being spoiled. His parents loved him and they were supportive; of a wonderful yet frightening experience that couldn't be explained; of realizing that he had magic; and of a fateful accident.

"_I was only a kid_," Remus went on, rather detached Kiba thought, "_when we had gone camping. It was really a tent that father pitched near the woods at the back of the property. Father had tucked us in, told me to sleep well, and headed inside._

"_My friends and I didn't go to sleep immediately, as most young boys are wont to do when they're by themselves. We stayed up rather late trying to scare each other with stories. Finally being scared enough, I declared I needed to use a tree before retiring to my sleeping bag. The other boys either cheered or booed, calling me either very brave or stupid, before I unzipped the tent and made my way to the closest tree."_

Kiba waited as Remus paused, ears flattening further and a soft whine escaping him.

"_I was in the process of returning to the tent when I heard it; a whisper of something, a bush rustling. Terrified, I froze; I didn't know if I should bolt for the tent or just stay as still as possible. I wasn't given much of a choice. It felt like it was instantaneous; I froze and then something was snarling and on top of me. I had the presence of mind to scream and protect my throat and stomach, but I was scratched across my face._

"_It burned._

"_Everything after that, for a while was just a blur. We found out a month later that I was a werewolf. My father started locking me in the basement on full moon nights, and my wolf became more and more lonely which led it to becoming rather violent; acting out to try and get _some_ kind of attention._

"_When I came to school, here at Hogwarts, I was sorted into Gryffindor with a handful of other students; the ones standing out and befriending me being James Potter, Peter Pettigrew, and Sirius Black. _

"_Despite everything that I was, everything that I'd done, they became my friends. I was so grateful that they liked me and respected me enough to want to be my friends."_

Kiba waited, absently thinking how great of a storyteller Remus was before the other wolf continued. _"I have no idea how they found out, it had to have been Sirius and James; despite how smart we were, Peter definitely wasn't the brightest of us. James and Sirius came up to me once after classes were out and Sirius told me, 'We know what you are.' I was terrified. I ran and hid somewhere in some unused corridor, remembered the map we had made plans for, all the charms and spells that we had researched, and never stayed in one place for more than fifteen minutes. When they still didn't leave me, I was _so, so _happy…_

"_Things for a while became distant around us. I was worried they'd changed their minds, the rest of the school was wondering if we were planning some epic prank. It was on the night of my birthday, and a full moon to boot, that the school nurse ushered me out of the school and we were met with such a sight._

"_A stag, Kiba, like none you've ever seen before stood before us with an amazing crown of antlers, head held regally: he became known as Prongs; an extremely large black dog, resembling a Grim, stood next to him, probably being about as big as you are: he became known as Padfoot; then there was a slightly out of place large grey rat sitting by the stag's foot: he became known as Wormtail. Madam Pomfrey was going to shoo them away, but I dropped to the ground and began the Change. She rushed back inside, and I stood up, a wolf. They beckoned to me; 'Moony! Come run with us!' So I did. I found my pack; I wasn't lonely anymore. _

"_We became the Marauders in act that night; creating a close knit band of strangers turned friends turned practically family."_

Kiba was startled when Remus suddenly snarled. It was a primal, animalistic thing; rough and torn from his throat in a feral, thunderous rage of sound

"_Then Voldemort came to power and the Rat betrayed us. He scurried off like the animal his animagus was and betrayed Prongs. Harry, his son, was the only one to survive the attack that no one's ever survived before; some plan of Lily's saved him, but Padfoot was so torn with grief that he set off to find Peter and ended up being framed for murder."_

"_And you were alone again."_ Kiba softly said. How such a social creature could withstand being alone for so long after experiencing such a wonderful, if unconventional, pack, was amazing. Remus nodded.

"_Padfoot eventually came back to me, when he heard news of Harry; using his animagus form to escape prison, but…"_ Remus sighed.

Birds chirped and Kiba went back to licking at a wound on his leg. He'd just narrowly escaped a trap set for something by a man-horse. He'd caught the arrow the thing had followed up with, throwing it back to him before dashing off into the forest, but it still frustrated him that he couldn't find peace here; the need to find the Flower was started to bubble up in him again, making him restless.

Remus stood up. _"I have to get back to class."_ He paused, a few paces away before looking over his shoulder and adding_, "Harry will be joining us tonight."_

"_Oh?"_

Remus just smiled, light dancing in his effervescent eyes that once more held a love for life and mischief, before he bounded back to the castle. Kiba didn't know if he should be happy about meeting this Harry he had heard so much about or feel discouraged that it would take away from his time with Remus. The white wolf was too wound up to resume his nap, so, standing up and shaking his fur, he decided he'd go see what the extremely large human was teaching today.

_Let's see how long it takes his dog to realize I'm there this time._ Kiba smiled to himself; a devilish smile on his face.

* * *

Care of Magical Creatures was after a very boring Herbology class. Professor Sprout just went over guidelines, which was odd. Usually, they at least did _something_ during class—even if it _was_ the first one. Harry was almost grateful to trek across the field to Hagrid's hut for class. Hagrid had various prints and such placed on tables and easels. It was a rather complicated setup. Multiple prints sat in groups with cards beneath them to identify what print went to what animal.

"Hagrid," Hermione began. "What's all this?"

"I'll tell ye in a sec," Hagrid replied. "Wait till th' others git 'ere."

They didn't have long to wait. While Fang was sniffing a few yards from the group near the edge of the forest, the rest of their class showed up. No one noticed Fang's hackles raised.

"Good! Yeh're all 'ere!" Hagrid began. "Welcome to Care o' Magical Creatures. Today, we're gonna be learnin' creatures an' their muggle counterparts by their prints."

"Why is that necessary?" Came an arrogant question from somewhere in the back.

"Because when ya go traipsin' about by yerself like I know most o' ye do after 'ours, you can identify creatures afore they meet you."

Silence greeted the happily explained explanation.

"Right, now," Hagrid continued, "Take notes on th' prints I hav' out for ye. I want twelve inches on at least three diff'rent sets o' prints."

There were groans—there always was when parchment was involved—but the students formed into groups and went around looking at all the prints, taking minimal notes on the prints they weren't going to write about and quite a bit more on the ones they decided they would.

A pleasant interruption came from Fang of all things. Usually, the distraction came from some injury that one of Hagrid's "harmless" creatures was involved in. Instead, Fang lunged, slobbering and snarling, at someone at the back of the group. Hagrid went lumbering up to where Fang was intent on breaking apart the fight, when something white went streaking across the field, Fang hot on its heels. The students watched the Boar Hound's chase until they couldn't see it anymore. When they got to talking again, it was about the white creature Fang had chased rather than the prints they were supposed to be focusing on. Fang ambled back just at the end of class, bloodied and panting. Hagrid dismissed them to take care of his dog that was shaking with exhaustion.

A howl that could only come from a wolf heralded them across the grounds as they made their way back to the castle. Most students bolted; not wanting to be a snack for a werewolf. Three students, however, didn't bolt or walk faster; knowing that it would set off the prey instinct if any predator was about. Now that they were by themselves, they felt safe to talk about the incident.

"Wha'd'you suppose that was?" Ron inquired as they walked around an outcropping.

"Looked familiar…" Hermione mused as they began crossing the expanse of grassy field to the castle.

"It was a wolf," Harry finally said.

That made the three of them pause.

"Are you sure, mate?" Ron asked with a bit of trepidation. Ron had never had good experiences with dogs or, incidentally, wolves. Damn Wormtail!

"The fleeing form was quite a bit similar to Remus' back in third year," Harry observed. "It couldn't be anything other than a wolf."

"You don't suppose that _that_ was the new creature roaming the Forbidden Forest?" Hermione and Harry looked at Ron. "What?"

"What an astute observation, Ron," Hermione replied thoughtfully.

Harry was contemplative until he realized that they were taking longer to get back to the castle than they usually did. "We need to hurry if we're going to have any time at dinner."

"Can't be having that now, mate!" Ron replied as they picked up the pace. Not even bothering returning to Gryffindor Tower, the unanimously dubbed Golden Trio brought their bags to dinner, tucking them under their place at the benches before sitting down in their usual spots and tucking into food.

* * *

Harry trudged to Professor Fiddlewood's office. He hadn't been told to bring anything, so he hadn't; just to spite the professor if he, indeed, needed something. He found the painting with little trouble—the forest was rather well painted and Harry absently thought that it might have been the Forbidden Forest years ago—and uttered the password.

"Fang."

Harry thought he heard a distant howl before the painting swung open and Prof. Fiddlewood stepped out.

"Professor?" Harry questioned.

"Hurry now," he replied, not explaining in the least. "Before it wears off."

_Wears off?_ Harry thought. Regardless, the boy followed the older man as he made his way through the castle to a statue he knew led to a corridor that exited near the Whomping Willow.

"How do you know about this?" Harry couldn't help but ask.

"I know many passages in this castle, Harry," the Professor replied. "More than you could ever _dream_ about."

Harry thought that that was an odd statement coming from the Professor given his background. He'd transferred from Durmstrang to Hogwarts when his family moved from Lithuania to Britain. How could he, in the limited years at Hogwarts, find all the secret passageways?

He missed what Professor Fiddlewood uttered to the statue, but didn't miss is springing aside to allow them entrance to the passage it guarded. Harry uttered his thanks, and swore the statue winked at him, before hurriedly following his professor. It seemed they were in the tunnel for hours—but which was probably only a handful of minutes—before the professor pushed aside some plants of some kind and entered into the moonlight.

"Kiba! What happened?"

"Kiba?" Harry echoed.

"Just a minute, Harry," Fiddlewood replied. "The potion's wearing off."

_Potion?_ Harry thought as the professor's features began to melt and change before his eyes. _Polyjuice!_ Harry had his wand out and pointed at the polyjuiced wizard before they could attack him. Who was it this time?

"_Put your stick away_," a tired voice replied. It was an odd sound; he heard human speech but, then again, he also heard a breathy groan like that a tired dog would make. "_He's only spoken fond words of you."_

"What?" Harry was confused, his wand still at the ready in front of him. Where had the voice come from?

"_Put your stick away, human_," the voice continued, slightly annoyed this time; there was definitely a growl laced behind the words this time, and it wasn't friendly. "_You're making yourself a threat, and I don't like threats against myself to go unanswered."_

"Harry." The boy spun at the familiar cadence. Bright green eyes met gold eyes. "Please put your wand away."

"**Remus**?" Harry exclaimed. His mouth worked but no sound came out. "But…how?" the boy finally managed.

Remus smiled. "Dalbert Fiddlewood is a good friend of mine and Dumbledore's. He had agreed to the DADA post, but a good…friend, I suppose you could call her…inquired if he'd be interested in helping her on a project. The man chopped off his hair, sent it to Dumbledore, and said the Headmaster had his permission to use it to polyjuice another wizard in his absence."

"And you just happened to get the honour?" Harry inquired with a wry grin.

"Well," Remus replied. "He and I were friends…and I was in the area…"

"_I don't need to know anymore,_" the voice from before interrupted. "_I want to run tonight, and is he who I think he is?"_

"Ah, my apologies, Kiba," Remus replied, turning towards the irate willow tree. Next to the bole well within striking range Harry saw a large white wolf; a very _large_ white wolf. He was licking a wound on his foreleg.

"Kiba, this is Harry Potter; the son of my good friend Prongs I mentioned to you earlier," Remus replied. "Harry, this is Kiba."

"Hullo," Harry greeted with a nod of his head. Kiba returned the nod with one of his own; his intense gold eyes never leaving him. He didn't know how to pose the question without it being rude, but his curiosity was _burning_ in its intensity. He just had to know. Drawing on his courage that Gryffindors were known for, Harry broke away from the molten gaze and addressed the question to Remus. "Is he a werewolf as well?"

Remus smiled, laughter dancing in his eyes as a low growl—oddly sounding like mumbling—came from the tree. "Kiba is just a regular wolf; if a bit different from the species muggles know," the werewolf kindly explained.

The information helped Harry, but exacerbated his curiosity. _If he's not a werewolf, but not a normal wolf, what kind of wolf is he?_ His question, however, would have to wait as Remus began speaking again.

"I think it's long overdue that you learn your animagus form, Harry," Remus replied. "You're too close to graduating not to know it."

"I'm only a Sixth Year," Harry replied.

"Sirius and your father were animagus by their Fourth Year, dear Harry," Remus sing-songed.

Harry just stared, not at the information, but at his decidedly extremely happy, sort of godfather, family friend…person. Since when had Remus sing-songed or looked so incredibly carefree? He turned to look at Kiba when he heard grass whisper and crunch as the wolf made his way towards them.

"_You're instincts are good, Harry_," Kiba replied. "_Remus knows what he's doing. He's only so happy because I helped him with his…musical problem."_

"Is that what you're calling it now?" Remus replied. "Musical problem?"

"_You were deaf to the Song of the Moon."_

"What?" Harry replied. It was like they were talking in a different language.

"Sorry Harry," Remus apologized. "I'm feeling antsy with the need to run. I'll explain the basics first: this is the main reason I assigned you detentions. Then afterwards, when you have it down, you can teach your friends in the Room of Requirement.

"Animagus forms reflect the soul and the propensity for magic a wizard has. Most wizards don't have or seek to have an animagus form simply because they have no desire to sort through their magic to find what it likes to do. You're young enough where you won't have any problems navigating your magic; the older you get the more set in your magic one becomes making it harder to just let it flow and read it.

"Because of the prophecy concerning you, that will, no doubt, affect what form you eventually take."

"Why would the prophecy affect it?" Harry inquired. It was valid that it might, but he wanted to know why it might.

"The prophecy affects how you look at your life and how you're training your magic," Remus explained. "I know you know a lot of defensive and offensive magic that isn't taught until this year or next year; you can throw of the Imperious Curse that I know almost no one can do with as little training as you've had.

"What I want you to do tonight is something like meditation," Remus continued. "I want you to sit against the Whomping Willow—don't give me that look, she'll protect you—and sift through your magic; get a feel for it. Let it flow about you and get its personality. Somewhere in there you should find out what form your animagus is.

"But right now, I need to run. I'll see you in a few hours."

Harry was going to ask a question, but instead of Remus standing in the moonlight, Moony was, and the large tawny wolf panted lupine laughter before nipping Kiba's tail and taking off across the grounds. Harry watched, as Kiba caught Moony's tail and took off in a different direction.

_They're playing tag_, Harry realized. Shaking himself, the boy cautiously stepped towards the usually irate tree. When the ancient willow made no move to pulverize his flesh, he settled more comfortably at the base, breathing deeply. _Okay…let's do this._

* * *

"So what do we do now?"

The voice and chatter woke Sirius up from a pleasant nap in the sunshine. The voice was familiar, but he was just too tired to bother to really find out what was going one. He rolled over intent to continue his nap, when something poked his cheek. He ignored it, thinking that it was a one time thing, but when it happened again…and again…and again…

Sirius snarled and pounced on whatever it was. Big golden eyes looked up from a boyish face. Straight brown hair was cropped to his chin, and his red shirt looked odd matched with his baggy pants. For some reason, he knew he'd met this kid before. He wasn't quite sure why or how, but that's what his nose told him, and it hadn't led him wrong yet.

"Do I know you?" Sirius asked.

The kid laughed. "I'm Toboe!"

"Toboe?"

The kid nodded emphatically. He pointed in the direction the group had been in when he had told them his story. "There's Cheza, Hige and Tsume!" Toboe beamed at who he thought was Tsume, who snarled and bared his teeth right back. The kid wearing baggy clothes had a collar around his neck, as the silver haired one that had a familiar crossed scar on his chest was wearing tight black leather…

_Ooooh~! Leather~!_ Sirius thought. _Leather can be…fun._

"This is how we've survived for years," Hige went on. "According to humans, wolves have been extinct for two hundred years. Toboe," Hige jerked his thumb in the direction Toboe had gone—chasing a butterfly of all things—"was raised by humans, so he's a bit more dog-like than we are. Tsume was a gang leader before getting coerced by Kiba to join his motley pack."

Sirius was suddenly struck with similarities between their pack and his own. "At least your pack is…well…a _pack_. I ran with a wolf alpha"—the wolves had told him that there were no such things as werewolves, and their debate between that had yet to be finished—"I was second with Prongs, or a very large stag, and then we had a rat."

The three wolves blinked. "You had a rat in your pack?" Tsume bit out. "How lowly can you get to consider a rat worthy to run with wolves? I can see how you might let a stag run with you, food and all that, but a rat?"

Sirius' expression darkened. "Well…he just proved his nature as a rat instead of a human being."

His look must have been especially feral, for the wolves looked ready for a hunt. Hige broke the tension with a nervous laugh. "I don't know about you guys, but I'm hungry."

"This one seems to observe you're always hungry, dear Hige!" Cheza exclaimed. Tsume grinned devilishly and Toboe laughed. Hige blushed, but still didn't change the subject.

"Kiba has us living off of Moonlight, and I want a good, decent meal before he comes back from wherever he is and leads us to wherever Paradise is," Hige argued.

"Paradise?"

"The humans have some story about Paradise," Hige explained. He seemed to be the Remus of the pack but not the alpha; that was Kiba. "They have it written down in this book called The Lunar Tome. Some believe it exists, others don't. We know it exists; it's what drives us to wander; it's the reason Toboe got lost from his pack, the reason Tsume went from dome to dome, it's the reason I wandered from dome to dome—albeit I wasn't a notorious gang leader by the time I was grown up." Hige winked at Tsume who growled. Hige shrugged. "We look for it because if we don't, we're doomed to wander eternally to try and fill the urge it creates in us…hey! Do you think we'll run into that old guy again?"

Toboe laughed. "You just like Blue!"

Hige looked indignant, but there was a faint blush on his face. "I do not!"

"Yes you do!"

"Come here you brat!" Hige growled as he launched himself at Toboe.

"Aaaahhh! Tsume help!" the youngest of their party cried as he dashed away.

"You got yourself into this mess, brat," Tsume replied. "Get out of it yourself!"

"Eehh! Tsume you're mean!"

Tsume growled. Sirius watched the interplay curiously. Tsume didn't look like he wanted to be there, but Cheza was stroking his arm with one finger, and for some reason it consoled the constantly irate wolf. Despite the fact that she was happy amongst the wolves, she seemed touched with sadness.

"Are we hunting or not?" Sirius spoke up. It was apparent that these wolves' leader was missing and although they wanted to continue on to wherever it was they were going—Paradise or what have you—it seemed like Kiba was the one who knew where it was.

"Hunting!" Toboe cheered with a laugh.

"Food is always good," Hige replied.

Sirius transformed into the large, loveable, black dog that he was. "_Let's go then."_

A dog and two wolves ran off into the woods. Tsume stayed behind to watch Cheza.

"You didn't have to stay with this one, Tsume," Cheza said as she continued to pet the grey wolf.

"_I just didn't feel like it,"_ Tsume replied as he settled himself down next to the flower girl.

Cheza smiled. "You're playing alpha while this one's Kiba is gone."

Tsume didn't say anything.

Cheza smiled.

_Kiba; where are you?_

* * *

_Leaves rustled about him as branches and snags tried to catch in his coat. Rumbling in his throat, he stalked silently through the underbrush; tail lashing in irritation as his prey evaded him. How dare they? His prey should feel _honoured_ that he chose to hunt it. Prowling, he scented the light breeze that made the leaves dace and sing and his long whiskers twitch. There was information there for him…there was information for him _everywhere…

"_Harry?"_

Said Gryffindor opened jade eyes to see two wolves looking at him curiously. Something in him was irritated at being interrupted in his hunt, but he knew the hunt was a figment of his imagination; it was where his animagus was.

"I'm a predator," Harry absently replied as he analyzed the feelings from his would-be animagus.

"_That's…unexpected,"_ Remus replied.

Harry's introspection turned outward, solely focused on the wolves before him on the other side of the Whomping Willow's fringe of branches. "How so?"

"_Well…your father was a stag and your mother's patronous was a doe_," Remus replied.

"My godfather's animagus form was a rather large black lab Grim-like dog," Harry rebutted. "That's not exactly a herbivour."

Remus was quiet.

"_Do you know what you are?" _Kiba inquired. He was lying in the grass, licking his foreleg that had been injured earlier. It was healed, something which Harry found curiously suspicious. There wasn't even a rift in his fur indicating a scar.

"A cat."

Kiba paused in his act, molten eyes looking up at him. Remus was looking at him like he had failed at life. Harry raised his hands, trying to placate Remus and fix the situation. "I don't think I'm a house cat like McGonagal!" Harry quickly informed the two wolves. "I was stalking through the woods, bushes were snagging in my black coat and my tail, which was pretty long, was lashing because I was angry about, I think, my prey escaping me."

Kiba looked placated, returning to licking his leg, but Remus didn't look so appeased.

"Seriously, Remus," Harry assured. "It's something big."

"_If you say so_," Remus finally acceded, laying down next to Kiba and proceeding to being cleaning his feet.

"Should I stay or…" Harry didn't know what to do exactly. It was obvious Remus was doing wolf things and wasn't interested in teaching anymore. Moony looked to the sky, noting where the moon was in her nightly path.

"_You should go inside,_" Remus finally informed him. "_It's getting late._"

Harry nodded and headed for the thick, draping plants that hid the secret passage the two had left through earlier in the evening. The Gryffindor just hoped he didn't run into anyone including a certain irate and irritable groundskeeper, or an irritating and annoying Slytherin.

* * *

Harry should have known his luck wouldn't hold. At the top of the last staircase heading to Gryffindor Tower, a certain Head Boy was making life for him difficult. Not that Harry was against Draco or anything; he just thought that the Slytherin's time could be better spent on more prosperous endevours.

"I should assign you detention, Potter," Malfoy sneered.

"Just came from detention, Malfoy," Harry wearily replied. He was not going to fight Malfoy. He was not going to fight Malfoy…

"Perhaps I should just punish you now then."

…He was not…_bloody hell!_

"Really, Malfoy, I have detention all week," Harry replied. "Please let me return to the Tower."

"Is there a problem?"

Harry and Draco turned to see Filch, Mrs. Norris at his heels, holding a lantern above his head. How the caretaker managed to sneak up on them was a mystery to both boys. Harry suspected that it was due to exhaustion on his part, and Malfoy had probably been much too involved taunting him. An idea formed in the recesses of his mind, taking form and poking insistently for his attention. _It could be _very _amusing, _the Gryffindor thought. Harry gave the Slytherin before him a mischievous smile watching his sneering face melt into wary trepidation before blanking his face back to the bone weary-tired look he had had before this _wonderful_ idea came to him.

"No, sir," Harry replied. "I was just heading back from my detention with Professor Fiddlewood when I ran into Draco here." He smiled brilliantly. Filch looked confused.

"Mr. Malfoy?"

Malfoy looked disgusted, but was nicely caught in Harry's cage of pretty words and actions. With a quick look promising death, the Slytherin put on a smile before slinging an arm around Harry's shoulders and giving Filch an equally sugary smile.

"Just wanting to see how Harry's classes went so far," Malfoy easily said. "I haven't been paired with his House in hardly any of my classes so I was curious as to how he's been doing."

Harry smiled warmly back at Malfoy.

Something deep in the Slytherin's eyes promised pain and sweet retribution was going to follow for this disgusting act.

"You'd have your Professor Fiddlewood to thank for that," Filch said. "'E didn't want to be dealing with your House…competitions…in his classroom."

Harry frowned, clearly disappointed. "That's too bad; Draco here was the best sparring partner I had."

"I bet," Filch replied with a grimace. "Get back to your beds; late enough for even Head Boys to be in bed."

"Yes, sir," Malfoy replied with a smile.

He glared at the two of them before turning and disappearing back to wherever he appeared from. Harry just squeezed Malfoy and leaned on his head on his shoulder when he realized a certain long haired shadow hadn't disappeared as well.

"You can remove yourself from my person now, Potter," Malfoy sneered.

"I think you better escort me to Gryffindor Tower," Harry replied cheekily. "Our dear friend left us a chaperone."

Malfoy looked down and saw the cat. Her ancient meow and red eyes were enough to get the Slytherin heir steering him in the direction Harry had been heading before the whole fiasco started. When the painting of The Fat Lady came into view, Malfoy dropped his arm and Harry relinquished his hold on him. With a curt, "sleep well," the flaxen haired youth made his way back through the shadows to the dungeons where the Slytherin dorms resided, Mrs. Norris trotting behind him. Shaking his head, Harry returned his attention to The Fat Lady. Walking towards her, he uttered the password, and made his way up the stairs to the boy's rooms. All he really wanted right now was his bed. His last thoughts were of how his detentions were going to make the dull days seem much too long.

How that was about to change…

* * *

Harry groggily walked into the Great Hall the next day, completely ignorant of the speculative looks shot his way from the other tables. The mass amount of curious, speculative, and hateful looks and glares from his own table finally brought the sleepy boy to full wakefulness. Sitting down in his usual spot, ignoring Ron's rather angry look, he casually greeted his friends with a, "good morning."

"Good morning?" Ron nearly yelled, or at least that's what the group of friends around the Weasley thought the boy said. He had a rather large amount of breakfast in his mouth, so no one could be too sure. They were, however, pretty sure that the red head was angry about something, which also wasn't too new, albeit curious to them since it was so close to the beginning of the year and so early in the morning.

"Why wouldn't it be a good morning?" Harry asked, helping himself to eggs and sausages.

"Well," Hermione began tactfully. Always the diplomatic one, Hermione was; Harry gave her credit for that. "You see, coming down to breakfast, we heard the paintings talking…"

Harry, curious as to what the paintings were talking about, wondered why Hermione trailed off. Harry continued to look at her, and Hermione was doing her best to try to get him to _understand_ without actually verbalizing it. Intently watching her had paid off, however, when Harry caught her eyes quickly dart in a familiar direction.

The Slytherin table.

…fuck.

"Bloody hell," Harry swore as he turned to his breakfast. He felt more than saw the looks Hermione and Ron were giving him. "It was a ruse to get out of detention!"

"With Malfoy?"

Harry wanted to yell his frustration, but that would cause a scene, and more attention was the last thing he wanted at the moment. "I ran into him coming back from detention. He was taunting me, I was tired, Filch found us and we came up with the story the paintings were probably telling to get out of more detention."

Ron gave him a shrewd look, but Hermione just nodded. "All right, Harry, but you should have known better than to be out and about so late regardless of detention."

Ron muttered something between bites that sounded suspiciously like 'consorting with the enemy'.

"About that detention…"

* * *

The Gryffindor Trio found themselves after classes in The Room of Requirement. Hermione and Ron were staring at him like he'd grown another head. Hermione's hand was still over Ron's mouth when the redhead couldn't keep his mouth shut. Both had identical stares of incredulity on their faces.

"You're being taught the Animagus Transformation during detention?" Hermione finally asked.

Ron, who managed to remove his friend's hand from his face, gave her a look. "I think you're missing the part where the professor isn't the professor."

"But it's the Animagus Transformation!" Hermione cried.

"And it's not Professor Fiddlewood!" Ron retorted.

Harry watched their argument grow like a ping-pong match. Honestly…Harry sighed. The two of them had to be dense. "Hermione," Harry interrupted. The flustered girl looked at him. "What Ron is trying to say is that Professor Fiddlewood is just a polyjuice disguise—"

"Then—"

"It's Remus."

"Professor Lupin!"

_Were they going to get anything done today? _Harry thought as Hermione went off on another tangent. When she had talked herself down, the Griffindor with Ravenclaw tendencies turned her attention on Harry. "So how did he teach you this?"

"I don't know it yet," Harry admitted. "This is what he had me do last night."

And Harry went on to tell Ron and Hermione how Remus had had him meditate on the workings of his magic, feeling it out and figuring out what it wanted to do. As his friends settled into their own meditations, Harry sunk into his own…

…_claws dug into peat as his nose worked furiously. They were close, his prey was. Whiskers worked the air currents as his eyes focused through the gloom of the forest to pin point the location of his prey. They were close, so close. Tail tip lashing furiously, looking more like a vibration than anything, silent footsteps took him through the underbrush. Fauna and ferns whispered the ghost of a touch against his soft fur._

_Nose twitching, he froze, prey sighted. Pausing long enough to determine he was still undetected, muscles bunched in anticipation…_

Green eyes flew open, the echo of a roar still in the recesses of his mind.

"Harry?" Hermione questioned. "Are you all right?"

Harry nodded and watched as Hermione closed her eyes to continue her meditation. Harry's green gaze watched the Room of Requirement for a moment more before closing his eyes and thinking over what had happened.

He couldn't get the roar out of his mind or the distinct feeling of success.

He couldn't be sure how long it was before Hermione's eyes fluttered open again or Ron suddenly fell sideways and jerked out of his trance right before hitting the ground.

"You good, mate?" Harry asked as Ron rubbed his wrist.

"Yeah," Ron muttered only half paying attention to what he was doing.

"It's odd, isn't it?" Harry asked.

They both nodded.

"Do you know what you are?" Ron asked.

"I've got four legs and a fluffy tail," Hermione said a bit perplexed.

"Singing," Ron volunteered. "Eerie singing."

"I'm a large cat of some kind," Harry offered in turn. "You'll become more acquainted with your animagus form the more you meditate. You won't actually transform until you brew a potion."

Hermione got a look in her eyes; the look that Harry knew meant that she wanted to take a perusal in the Restricted Section in the Library. The Gryffindor knew that if she had the chance, she would probably brave Merle in her bathroom and brew it. Then again, with Remus in the school, they could probably brew it in his rooms.

"We should probably head back to the Tower," Harry supplied as he checked his watch. It was well past time they should be asleep. Carefully opening the door to the Room of Requirement, the trio of Gryffindors checked to make sure Filch or Mrs. Norris weren't in the corridor before slipping into the shadows and returning to Gryffindor Tower.

* * *

A few days into Harry's detentions, the Gryffindor hadn't gotten further into his transformation than he had the evening he had meditated with Ron and Hermione. The clever witch had identified her animal as a dhole; she hadn't recognized the species and had studied and looked through a multitude of books when she had found it quite readily in a book her parents had sent her on animals of the world. Ron swore he was dog of some kind, but all he got was mountains and eerie singing still. At least Harry knew he was further along than his redheaded friend.

"Fang," Harry muttered to the portrait of the forest. The echo of a howling wolf sounded as the portrait swung open. Stepping through the door, Harry looked around. Remus didn't seem to be in, but he could very well be in the loo or in his bed—now that he thought about it, coming probably hadn't been such a good idea, but his rash Gryffindor personality wouldn't let him back out now. So, like any good person who shared the genes of one James Potter, he proceeded to inadvertently get himself in trouble.

Looking back on it, Harry had no idea how he had set off the traps, since he was sure the last time he was in Remus' rooms, they hadn't been there. All he had done was pick up a small statue of what was seemingly a snitch, when its wings had buzzed to life and it started to flit about the room. Cursing under his breath, Harry started chasing it, was just about to grab the accursed object, when he tripped over a chest, which opened, and ropes sprang out, conveniently tying him up to the wall; his wand clattering to the floor and rolling over to the bottom of the chest.

When the portrait door opened some indeterminable time later, Harry was pretty sure he looked rather pathetic. Especially since the first thing Remus—in the guise of Professor Fiddlewood—was brake down laughing. "A little help please?" Harry drolly requested after the fashion of the Prince of Slytherin. He had to wait for the Polyjuice potion to wear off before Remus made his way over to him and removed him from the wall with a deft few flicks of his wand.

"Sorry about that," Remus apologized after a few chuckles. "Flitwick and I got into a fight and I daresay he charmed you into a rather nice corner, Mr. Potter."

Harry scowled, but the scowl didn't last as they both broke down in a fit of laughter. When that cleared, Remus asked what had brought him to his lovely quarters this late in the evening.

"We've been meditating over our animagus forms," Harry explained, "my mates and I and we, well just myself really, are at the point to where we could transform, but I'm not sure how to do it exactly."

"Do you know what you are?" Remus asked.

Harry nodded.

Remus waited.

"You're not going to tell me, are you?" the werewolf finally asked. Harry smiled deviously.

"I'd like to keep it a surprise if that's all right with you, Professor," Harry replied. "It will make playing tag that much more fun."

Remus smiled.

"Well, this is how Sirius and your father explained it to me when I asked," Remus began as he started to explain knowing his animal, it's habits, inside and out, before imagining himself with the instincts the animal had and the shape to go with it.

"There's a potion adults take," Remus replied, "but that's usually to make it easier on their magical channels; James and Sirius never had to brew the potion."

Harry nodded.

"If you get stuck, or you want someone to watch," Remus added, "I'm sure Kiba wouldn't mind; he's probably quite bored."

"I'll think on it," Harry replied as he was ushered out of the room. Thinking about what Remus told him, Harry turned and nearly ran into one Draco Malfoy.

"Potter," the blond spat.

"Malfoy," Harry replied in kind.

The two stared at each other, debating whether or not it would be fortuitous to fight or not before the Slytherin sneered. "Watch where you're walking, Potter." And with that, the Slytherin pushed passed him and continued down the hall in a flurry of robes. He caught a vague scent on the breeze as Malfoy passed him by, and the Gryffindor vaguely wondered why he smelled like the Forest before heading back to his room. Tomorrow he'd try to transform.

* * *

Sirius snarled as his teeth tore into what appeared to be a deer. He must have looked odd to an outsider, a muggle; a big dog running with wolves-apparently gone feral-hunting game. They tore into the carcass they all helped bring down; devouring it hungrily. Sirius didn't think too much about it; likening the experience to Azakaban-doing whatever he had to to survive. Having eaten a deer that Toboe had brought down earlier, they ripped off the hind legs to give to Tsume.

Toboe, tail held high and practically prancing, followed Hige back to the clearing. Sirius, a haunch in his mouth as well, followed much more sedately. When the clearing came into view, Toboe bounded ahead of Hige who did naught but sigh audibly. Sirius cocked his head in confusion.

_"He was raised by humans,_" the wolf explained. _"He still acts very much like a puppy, even though he's probably two, if not three."_

_"An adult?" _Sirius inquired. He couldn't remember these things from school and his mother never would have let them have a dog growing up.

_"Yes."_

Sirius laid his prize down next to the leg Tsume was eating as Toboe regaled Cheza and the grey wolf with the details of the hunt. All Sirius wanted to do was sleep; all the food had made him tired. Curling up near the base of a tree, the large black dog fell asleep.

"This one thinks you were very brave, Toboe," Cheza replied when he was finished with his story.

The young wolf preened. Soon thereafter, the rest of the wolves found places to curl up and sleep off their meal. After petting all her wolves, the Flower Maiden went to the outcast of their group. The dog was none like she'd seen in their travels or heard her wolves complain about. The closest he came to resembling was Blue, but Cheza almost didn't count her since she was half wolf; if not more so. Her instincts said that Sirius was a dog, but he was also clearly human as well. He was different; and although he didn't know it, she could feel the Doorway lazily wake up and whisper when he was near it for any length of time. She wondered if, perhaps, if Sirius went back through the Noble's device if her white wolf would return.

* * *

It was the weekend and Harry was determined to seek out Kiba. Since the wolf seemed to like the Whomping Willow, the Gryffindor tried there first. When that came up blank, he tried down by the lake. With him not there either, Harry decided, why not?, and headed out into the Forbidden Forest; not like he hadn't been in there before. He wandered around for a bit before he found a small trail that was covered with what looked like large dog prints that Harry decided had to be a wolf's prints. Following the trail and ignoring the little voice that said following a wolf was a bad idea, he came to a clearing that stopped him cold.

Why was the veil in the middle of the Forbidden Forest?

"_It's fascinating, isn't it?"_

Harry turned around to see the huge white wolf that was Kiba. He trotted toward the veil, stopping just short of the fabric that moved in an illusory wind. Maybe it was real and they just couldn't feel it.

Harry didn't want to think of that possibility.

"It is fascinating," Harry replied, remembering the last time he had seen the Veil.

"_You smell sad_," Kiba observed.

"I lost my godfather to something like this," Harry explained. "He was the only family I had left."

"_You still have pack though,"_ the wolf said as he raised his nose to sniff the breeze that he couldn't feel. "_You're just acting as alpha, despite what your Remus says."_

Harry didn't know what to say to that. Yeah, he did tend to ignore the adults, but they ignored him; didn't tell him important knowledge that he needed to know. Some things could have been avoided if he had had more information. He hadn't sought Kiba out, though, to commiserate. He wanted to accomplish this transformation.

"_You're determined now_." He cocked his head, probably—Harry thought—waiting for an explanation as to why he was determined now.

"Can you watch my animagus transformation?" Harry asked. "Remus suggested that you could help me with it."

"_C'est la lune qui conduit la danse,_ " Kiba said as he turned to face the Gryffindor. He turned away from the Veil in the Forest and settled himself on the ground near the huge bole of an ancient tree. "_Let me see what you do,_ " Kiba inquired.

Shrugging, Harry sat down and began the now familiar meditation that led him to his animal…

_The power he had was uncontested; the forest knew that he was the top of the food chain. Gracefully stalking through the fauna on the forest floor, having eaten recently, the nervous deer and other herbivores made inquiring, nervous noises as he passed. The fact that the birds were still singing should have keyed them in to his indifference towards them._

"Embrace what you're feeling."

_The cat lifted his head, stilling. The birds were still singing but something seemed…off…to him; wrong almost. Sniffing, delicate whiskers flicked with the action. A feeling not unlike when a bad storm was coming suddenly embraced him; pressure in the back of his head. Yowling his complaint, the cat dug claws into the peat and took off running, hoping to outrun whatever was attacking him._

_And the birds were still singing._

_Roaring a challenge to the thing that couldn't just be in his head, he heard the birds give a start and take flight, making him feel smug and accomplished; how dare they sing "fine" when it wasn't. It was then that the forest started to dip and bend; swimming in his vision, making him wish he could throw up the food in his stomach. He yowled again, plaintively. _

_He was going to die._

_Closing his eyes, the cat lay down…_

…and opened his eyes to see a large white wolf. Hissing, the cat arched and launched himself at this new threat. Snarling, the creature took off through the strange, unfamiliar woods.

"_Harry! Get a hold of yourself!_" Kiba snarled towards the youth. The cat just growled back. _"Harry! Don't let the cat have dominance!_"

When the boy still didn't respond, Kiba had to think fast. If he didn't do something soon, Harry would be lost to his cat. Chancing a glance behind him, Kiba quickly dodged when movement from above heralded the shadowy form of his pursuer. When he said cat, he wasn't expecting one that was seven feet long.

Harry was bombarded with scents and instincts; confusing him as to who he was. He was a predator; sleek and promising death to those that were his prey. He was a boy; a wizard in training and truth when the situation was against him. He wasn't allowed out of the Common Room after curfew. He usually went anyway. The Forbidden Forest is forbidden for a reason.

…so why was he running through it?

Was he chasing something?

"_Harry!"_ a familiar voice called. Suddenly, Harry realized that he was running, but it was all wrong. Four feet were on the ground, not two. This sudden realization had him tripping over a root, his momentum causing him to roll head over heels in the peat and heather until he came to an abrupt stop at the base of a gigantic tree; the force of it sending the leave and branches shaking. Carefully righting himself, Harry gently shook his head; the world that had been previously spinning and tipping reorienting itself once more. That was when he became aware of the huge white wolf with its tongue lolling out the side of his mouth.

Kiba was laughing at him.

Harry hissed his displeasure.

Kiba laughed harder.

"_It's not funny_," Harry spat, hackles raising and his tail lashing in agitation. Instincts were telling him that this was why cats and dogs were always at odds; canines never took things as seriously as they needed to. Harry figured that canines would say that cats took themselves too seriously. Licking a paw to soothe his injured pride, Harry waited out Kiba's laughter. When the wolf was finally done, he exhaled in a loud whuf before making himself comfortable in the loam of the forest floor.

"_Why don't you do some agility and get used to four legs and a tail?"_

Harry hissed again at the laughter in the tone, but couldn't ignore the wisdom in it. Eyeing a tree, the green-eyed panther carefully judged the distance before launching into the air, claws extended.

* * *

tbc

_posted 2August2010_

_edited 19March2012  
_


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